


so much love so close to home

by villagepsychic



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthdays, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, cause i'm a whore, tattoo artist!dimitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-21 09:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villagepsychic/pseuds/villagepsychic
Summary: "Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd," Felix says slowly, dangerously. "What was theonething I told younotto do?"Dimitri puts his head in his hands. "Make you dinner," he mumbles."And what, exactly, did you proceed to do?" Felix asks. Dimitri canfeelthe glare on him and winces."I... I made you dinner."When he looks up carefully, Felix is pinching the bridge of his nose. "And then you nearly burned our kitchen down," he says flatly. "But thanks for trying."(Dimitri wants to be a Good Boyfriend for Felix. It takes a failed attempt at a birthday dinner for him to realize he doesn't have to try so hard in the first place.)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 9
Kudos: 170





	so much love so close to home

**Author's Note:**

> i randomly tweeted [this](https://twitter.com/_fraldarius/status/1190786742980431875?s=20) during break @ work, and here we are dammit

Felix’s birthday doesn't officially make itself known to Dimitri’s brain until there are only two weeks left to it. He’s busy with a client when the date suddenly pops into his head, and he almost sends the gun skidding across his client’s arm—the man hisses reflexively when Dimitri accidentally presses too hard, and he grimaces at the slip-up.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, lifting the gun up immediately. His voice is loud in the silence of the tattoo parlor. “I lost focus there for a second.”

His client, a young, handsome man named Claude, just shakes his head amiably. “You’re all good! Just, uh, please be careful.”

Dimitri offers him a wobbly smile. “Will do.”

Okay, yeah—he’s a shitty boyfriend. _To be fair_, Dimitri has exactly two excuses: one, they’ve both been painfully busy, with Felix drowning in his computer science major and Dimitri valiantly fighting a losing battle with his third year of law school, and two—Felix hates birthdays. Well, he hates his own birthday, at least. He’d refused to let Dimitri do anything that would cost money for him last year, he remembers, which made Dimitri feel _terrible_ because Felix had taken him out for a fancy dinner for his own birthday just months earlier.

Years of knowing him doesn't make him any more predictable when it comes to celebrations, and Dimitri has half-given up. That doesn't make him feel any less horrible about forgetting, though, and Dimitri sighs forlornly.

Claude eyes him carefully from where he’s sitting on the table, dressed in black skinny jeans that make his thighs bulge almost obscenely and a green long-sleeved shirt that he has rolled up on his left arm so Dimitri can work. “Uh, you good, man?” He asks. “You aren’t messing up or anything, right?”

“Oh, no.” Dimitri forces out a laugh. Claude’s tattoo is simple—a backwards crescent moon of sorts with lines connecting the curves. Even though Dimitri’s never seen anything like it before, it’s easy enough for him to go on autopilot mode as he marks Claude’s skin up. And by _ autopilot mode_, he means Beat-Yourself-Up-Over-Forgetting-Your-Own-Boyfriend’s-Birthday mode.

It’s simple. He’ll beat himself up and around a bit, and _ then _ he’ll start figuring out a game plan.

Claude peers over at his arm for a moment before he nods. “Well, I’ll trust the professional artist here. But why the sad face, then?”

Dimitri purses his lips. “It’s really nothing.”

“Aww, you sure?” Claude asks cheerfully, and Dimitri’s taken aback by his friendliness, because most people who ask for tattoos tend to stay quiet while actually _ getting _ their tattoo. It’s half because of the pain and half because this generation apparently hates small talk, which Dimitri doesn't mind _ too _ badly, because he likes stewing in his own head sometimes. “Hey, tattooist to… tattoo-ee? You get my point. I’m pretty sure we’ll never see each other again, so you can let it out.”

Dimitri fills in the bottom edge of the moon, keeping his mouth shut for a moment. Claude waits patiently. “It’s really alright,” he says.

“It isn’t,” Claude prods. “You look like you’re about to cry, man.”

Dimitri blinks. “Wait, I do?”

Claude snickers. “Nah, you don’t. Just wanted to see if that would work.” He pauses. “You don’t have to tell me, by the way. I don’t even really know why I asked. You just seem like the kind of guy who doesn't like to talk about his problems very much.”

_ That _ almost sends the tattoo gun skidding again, and Dimitri has to lift it up to calm down. _ Way to read him like a book_, he thinks. “That’s an oddly keen observation to make when we don’t even know each other.”

Claude grins. “I’ve been told I’m observant,” he says. “Plus, we know each other a little bit, at least!”

“Sure,” Dimitri says, frowning. 

It’s silent for another moment that stretches on, before Claude says, “So you won’t tell me what’s up.”

“I won’t,” Dimitri confirms, and it’s quiet again.

Sylvain comes sometime later, grinning at Claude and sending Dimitri a salute. He sets his bag down and admires Dimitri’s handiwork for a moment before looking up at Claude with raised eyebrows. “You actually came, huh?”

Claude smiles. “I did. Your friend here has been _ excellent_. It looks great!”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, feeling mildly embarrassed when Sylvain gives him a high five. “Um, do you guys know each other?”

“We’re… good friends,” Sylvain says easily, right when Claude says, “I wish I didn’t, but yes.”

“Hey!” Sylvain exclaims, clearly affronted, and Claude rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Make sure you don’t touch or wash it,” Sylvain tells Claude seriously, as he lists off all the dos and don’ts while Claude sits there and nods when applicable and also stares at Sylvain’s mouth a little more than necessary, at least from Dimitri’s perspective. “Do you want to schedule an appointment to check in and add another layer now or later?”

“Sure,” Claude says. “How does next Wednesday, five pm sound?”

“Sounds good,” Sylvain says with a nod.

Claude’s packing up and leaving only minutes later, keeping careful to hold his sleeve up and away from his tattoo. “Probably should have worn a short-sleeved shirt,” he mutters to himself, and Dimitri shakes his head.

“It’s too cold for that,” he points out, before hesitating when Claude starts opening the door. “Wait.”

Claude turns around and raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” He asks.

“Um,” Dimitri starts, embarrassed over the fact that he’s even bothering to say this out loud, especially to a stranger. “On the hypothetical chance that you… forget your significant other’s birthday coming around in about two weeks, what would you do?”

“Oh.” Claude has to visibly hold down a smile for a moment before he clearly gives up, grinning. “This is what you were stewing over the entire time?”

“Not the _ entire _ time,” Dimitri defends, and then realizes how pathetic he probably sounds. “Look, that isn’t the point, and I probably shouldn’t have asked. It’s—it’s stupid, really.”

Claude’s eyes soften immediately. “Hey, you’re all good,” he reassures. “Birthdays aren’t a big thing for me, in all honesty, so I don’t really do much about them.” He frowns. “But you shouldn’t feel bad about forgetting. You’re probably busy, you know? As long as you remembered, that’s all that matters.”

Dimitri feels soothed by his words and marvels for a moment. “Thank you,” he says. “Your next visit will be with Sylvain, by the way.”

Claude smirks as he steps out. “I’m not complaining,” he says. “Good night. Hope your significant other doesn't beat you up for not remembering!”

“He’d probably be happy I didn’t,” Dimitri mutters, and Claude laughs before he closes the door. 

He sighs and drags a hand over his face before turning around to Sylvain with a shocked look on his face, arm frozen from where he’d been reaching out to grab the tattoo gun. 

“You didn’t remember Felix’s birthday?” He asks incredulously.

Dimitri scowls. “Shut up, Sylvain.”

**♡**

When Dimitri gets home at seven, he circles February 20th on their calendar sitting on the wall of the entryway, and then he immediately thunks his head against the wall in a fit of mild, _ first-world-problems _ despair before he sits down at the counter to attempt to get some work done in order to clear his head.

When Felix gets home two hours later, he toes off his shoes, glances at the calendar for approximately three whole seconds, and then marches over to the other side of the counter to glare at Dimitri with his hands on his hips. He’s wearing one of Dimitri’s old varsity jackets from high school that only fits him because he stopped growing by junior year, the year before they’d started dating, and his hair is tied up in his usual style. Dimitri stares at him.

“Don’t you _ dare _ think about my birthday,” he says almost viciously.

“Felix,” Dimitri announces, completely star-struck. “You look… so beautiful today.”

“What?” That breaks off a significantly large chink in Felix’s seemingly impenetrable armor (it _ isn’t _ actually impenetrable, clearly, seeing as Dimitri managed to sap his way into Felix’s heart years ago), because Felix pauses and then blushes endearingly, even as he continues to glare daggers at him. “D-don’t try to fucking distract me, you idiot.”

Dimitri frowns and shuts his laptop. ”I was not trying to do that,” he says honestly. “I just... my breath is taken away every time I see you.”

“Will you stop that?” Felix hisses, dragging a hand over his face and scowling—but he’s red, clearly flustered, so Dimitri can’t help but beam at him. “You’re terrible. This isn’t the point, fool. I’m telling you not to do _ jack shit _ for my birthday, do you understand me?”

“I’m afraid I do not,” Dimitri admits. “Is it so bad that I want to do something for you?”

Felix nods. “Absolutely. It’s bad when I specifically tell you _ not _ to.”

“But why?” Dimitri asks with a pout, deflating in his barstool. “It’s your birthday, Felix. We should celebrate, shouldn’t we?”

Felix rolls his eyes, shouldering off his backpack to toss onto the counter. “The way I see it,” he says thinly, “birthdays are nothing more than a sign that we’re a year closer to our graves. Nothing more to it.”

Dimitri grimaces. “That’s… actually terrible.”

“Don’t care,” Felix says flippantly. “Didn’t ask. But I swear on Sylvain’s entire worthless life, Dimitri, if you do anything for my birthday, I’ll—” he stops and frowns. “I don’t know. I’ll figure that part out later. But you get my point.”

“I do, but _ still_,” Dimitri says. He’s distracted by Felix’s backside as he walks down the hallway and turns into their room, and he slides off the barstool with a huff as he jogs after him. “Why are you allowed to do things for me, and I’m not allowed to do anything for you? It’s a mutual relationship, Fe!”

Felix purses his lips, choosing not to answer as he starts to slip off the varsity jacket, and Dimitri goes into a hormone-induced panic.

“Don’t take it off, please,” he begs, and Felix looks him up and down before rolling his eyes even as he keeps it on anyway.

“You’re so frustrating.”

“I am,” Dimitri agrees, coming up to wrap his arms around Felix’s waist from behind. Their apartment is spacious enough, due to their families coming from wealth, and Dimitri tries to calculate how many steps it’ll take to get to their bed if he carries Felix there himself. “But can I please do just one thing? _ Just one?_”

“Shut up.”

Dimitri pouts, rocking them back and forth. “_Please_, Felix?”

Felix sighs. “I don’t care what the hell you do, as long as it isn’t something unnecessary,” he says flatly, and Dimitri grins, taking it as a win. “_And _ as long as it has nothing to do with the kitchen. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Dimitri says cheerfully. “I love you so much, you know.”

Felix grimaces as he turns around. “I do know,” he mutters, and Dimitri’s heart pangs. “Now please just stop fucking talking, you boar. And remember—no fucking birthday dinner, or whatever. Stay away from the kitchen, you hear me?”

“Of course,” Dimitri says immediately, trying not to sound affronted.

Felix glares at him. “Say it.”

Dimitri sighs. “I won’t go near the kitchen, Felix.”

“Good,” Felix says flatly. “Because you’re an idiot, and I can’t believe I have to deal with you.” And then he kisses Dimitri, so he doesn't think much of the mindless insult, anyway.

And Dimitri thinks, _ Yeah, I’m in love_.

**♡**

Dimitri runs into The Main Problem the morning after, when he realizes he has absolutely no idea what he’s going to do for Felix’s birthday and promptly freaks out.

“Dimitri, you need to relax,” Annette informs him when he steps into his intern cubicle—_intern cubicle _ essentially means it’s nothing more than a box that probably wouldn’t be able to fit people like Dedue and Raphael in it, and he accepts the cup of coffee Annette hands over to him from where she’s poking her head out over her side. “So much tension in those shoulders! Do you need a massage?”

“I don’t need a massage, Annette,” Dimitri laughs, basking in the smell of black coffee. “But thank you for offering. How did you know I was stressed?”

“You look extra frazzled today,” she says. “I know the case you’re helping work on is difficult, but Ashe is here today, so you can work with him!”

He doesn't deserve Annette, who brightens up the entire office without even trying. “Thank you, Annie,” he says appreciatively. “You’re much too kind.”

“_Someone _ has to be the ray of sunshine in this hellhole,” she jokes, and he laughs.

He lets the coffee cool on his desk before he gulps it down as fast as possible, paying no mind to the lack of taste and quietly praying for the caffeine to set in fast. Ashe comes around ten pm and they work for half an hour before he finally finds the courage to ask him for his opinion. “Ashe,” he says slowly. “What would you get Felix for his birthday?”

Ashe doesn't even look up from his work. “He told me not to get anything for his birthday,” Ashe says.

Dimitri groans. “_God_. Of course he did.”

“He says that every year,” Ashe points out. “So, um... as per usual, no one’s listening to him. Annie and I are getting him a fencing set since he’s been pretty serious about that lately, though!”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Dimitri bemoans, setting his pen down and covering his face with his hands. “I am _ such _ a bad boyfriend, aren’t I?”

“Woah, woah,” Ashe says, looking worried as he pries Dimitri’s fingers away from his face. Dimitri is slightly comforted by the fact that he could keep his hands there if he wanted, but he lets them drop to the table with a _ thunk! _ anyway. “Slow down, Dimitri. You aren’t a _ bad boyfriend_. What spurred that thought process on?”

They have to finish filling out extra paperwork in half an hour, but Dimitri decides to set it off to the side for a moment. “I forgot Felix’s birthday was actually happening until last night,” he says mournfully. “I was in the middle of an appointment at work, and I feel pretty terrible about it, even though Felix said I’m allowed to do whatever I want for him.” He decides to leave the part where he said _ no cooking_, because he doesn't need Ashe to know he’s terrible at that sort of stuff.

Ashe blinks for a moment. “You know that doesn't make you a bad boyfriend, right?” He says slowly, like Dimitri’s a child. “It’s okay to forget. You’re busy, and so is Felix.” He frowns. “You know, he’d probably feel better about you forgetting than anything else.”

“I _ know_,” Dimitri says. “I just wish he’d feel better about his own birthday… and I _ still _ don’t know what to get him!”

“You still don’t know what to get Felix?” Sylvain says as he swings in and drops a stack of papers on the desk. He leans into Ashe’s space, smirking, and the younger boy huffs as he places a hand on his shoulder and pushes, and Sylvain rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun, Ashe!”

“Good morning, Sylvain,” is all Ashe says flatly.

“I don’t know what to get him,” Dimitri confirms. “Do you know what you’ll do?”

Sylvain snorts. “Of course not. Felix has never been big on that sort of stuff. He finds it all so… _ boring_, you know? I’ll figure something out last minute. You need to relax, Dimitri. You still have two weeks.”

“Yes, but what if I decide to order something online?” Dimitri frets. He realizes it’s starting to get a bit unnecessary, but sue him for worrying.

Both Sylvain and Ashe look two seconds away from doing just that as they give him deadpan stares. “Dima,” Sylvain says slowly, “we need you to chill out. How about Ashe and I come over to help you make dinner for him, and you buy him something small? He really doesn't need much.”

He’s tempted to say yes, but… “Well, Felix, uh,” he starts. “He said I’m not allowed to cook for him.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sylvain wrinkles his nose. “You’re a terrible cook.”

Ashe frowns. “Wait, you are?”

Dimitri feels himself heating up and scowls. “Please stop. It’s embarrassing to think about.”

Sylvain snickers. “This is a judgement-free zone, Dimitri!” He says cheerfully. “Look, we’ll cook _ for _ you, and we’ll call it a present from the three of us. Does that sound good?”

Ashe’s left eye twitches. “Sylvain, I don’t recall you asking for my opinion on this, since you’re forcing me into it?”

“Ashe,” Sylvain says seriously. “How could you refuse Dimitri anything, huh? Just look at him!”

Ashe looks at him. Dimitri blinks, stuck between following Felix’s forceful orders, letting Ashe choose for himself, and trying to convey how much he needs him in this moment. Ashe coughs and looks down at the table pointedly, fixing his tie.

“You’re right,” he agrees hesitantly. “I guess I’ll help. No offense, Dimitri, but you look like you need it.”

Sylvain nods solemnly. “He’s right, you know.”

“I don’t appreciate this disrespect,” Dimitri mutters, but of course, as usual, Ashe and Sylvain don’t pay any attention to him. 

**♡**

`(11:45pm) Please Do Not Respond made a groupchat with you and ashe.`

`(11:46pm) Please Do Not Respond: so`

`(11:46pm) Please Do Not Respond: when should we come over lol`

`(12:01am) you: Sylvain, I'll be honest with you... I didn't think it would actually happen.`

`(12:05am) ashe: same here. sylvain you take all the wrong things too seriously!!! also it's midnight go to sleep`

`(12:07am) Please Do Not Respond: why dont u go to sleep first lmao`

`(12:08am) Please Do Not Respond: anyway i propose that we just come over the afternoon of his birthday under the premises of "hanging out" while felix is gone. maybe we can do some other stuff ;)`

`(12:09am) you: Please don't. that sounds like a terrible idea`

`(12:11am) ashe: you're seriously flirting??!! sylvain did you just accidentally forget that dimitri's been dating felix for years`

`(12:12am) Please Do Not Respond: ashe i was talking about u`

`(12:14am) ashe: >///< shut up `

`(12:16am) Please Do Not Respond: ASHE... U R SO PRECIOUS...`

`(12:17am) you: I have to agree, Ashe :)`

`(12:19am) ashe: oh my god okay enough n__n when should we come over, dimitri?`

`(12:21am) you: To be honest, I'm still on the fence about doing it in the first place.`

`(12:21am) you: I'm legally betraying my own boyfriend, aren't I?`

`(12:22am) Please Do Not Respond: dimitri... its just dinner. u realize that right`

`(12:23am) you: :[`

`(12:27am) ashe: be more sensitive sylvain`

`(12:29am) Please Do Not Respond: Lol how am i being insensitive dimitri's just a baby`

`(12:30am) Please Do Not Respond: anyway we'll come sometime during the afternoon of his actual birthday. dinners are best when fresh, amirite`

`(12:32am) ashe: i guess i'm down if dimitri's down!! ^__^ although i still feel a bit odd about being pushed into this`

`(12:35am) Please Do Not Respond: well u haven't outright objected have u`

`(12:39am) ashe: i suppose that's correct :/`

`(12:40am) Please Do Not Respond: exactly`

`(12:40am) Please Do Not Respond: well it almost took an entire hour to have this simple conversation`

`(12:41am) Please Do Not Respond: dimitri im just gonna assume youre okay with this dinner thing happening im gonna go to sleep now`

`(12:43am) you: You're**. But okay. I trust Ashe`

`(12:44am) ashe: that means a lot dimitri!!!!! goodnight :3`

`(12:57am) Please Do Not Respond: wow :( it rly be ur own friends...`

**♡**

Felix’s birthday rolls around rather unceremoniously. With Dimitri working on cases and Felix beginning an internship at a tech company, he barely has any time to do much more than wish him a happy birthday and give him a kiss before Felix has to leave, Felix wrinkling his nose but adorably leaning into his touch anyway. He _ does _ get people stopping by their apartment with hopes to see Felix, however, and has to turn away a pouty Dorothea after accepting her present on his boyfriend’s behalf—it’s a beautifully wrapped box she tells him _ not _ to open, or else she’ll give him a few choice words the next time she sees him. Dimitri gulps and nods, leaving it in their room.

He still feels a little antsy about Sylvain and Ashe coming over to cook _ sometime in the afternoon_, but he knows he’d probably feel significantly _ antsier _ if it were Sylvain on his own—he can’t really go wrong with Ashe accompanying him, because Ashe is Responsible and a Good Cook and Dimitri also trusts him with his life in a way he does with Sylvain, too… just not with serious matters like Cooking a Dinner For Someone Who Might Not Actually Want One.

Yeah. Dimitri’s stressed. On the bright side, however, he’s finally decided on a present for Felix—it’s just a video game set, one he’d been eyeing for quite a while despite having all the money and resources to purchase it, but it’s a present all the same, and Dimitri figures if he gets pissed off at him about it he can just say he wanted it for himself too, or something. Not that he’s good at video games, if the amount of times Felix has beaten him at Mario Kart is anything to go by, but he digresses.

Anyway, the point of it is, Sylvain and Ashe both come around six-thirty pm, with Felix texting him only fifteen minutes earlier that he’d be _ running late _ . It’s recently become their code for _ Don’t expect me to come home until at least midnight_, and Dimitri mourns the loss of his boyfriend on his own birthday pitifully on the living room couch with nothing but a book to provide him company until Sylvain barges in and says, “Hey, loser!”

Dimitri blinks as Ashe bumbles in after him serenely, holding a few bags of ingredients that he sets on the counter. “I thought I locked the door,” he says weakly.

“You did,” Sylvain informs him a matter-of-factly. “Ashe got in for us!”

“Wh—” Dimitri gapes at Ashe, who dusts himself off and then primly toes his shoes into the small rack next to the door. “Ashe?”

“I know your keypad code,” Ashe says easily.

_ How on earth do you know that_, Dimitri wants to ask, and then he realizes he probably doesn't want to know the answer and shuts his mouth with a grimace. “Alright,” he says instead. “So, um… dinner, right? I’m really afraid I won’t be much help here, unfortunately.”

“Leave it all to us,” Sylvain promises as he drags an only somewhat willing Dimitri up off of the couch and to the kitchen as Ashe examines the stove and their cupboards as though he’s an inspector, which makes Dimitri more than a little nervous. “Ashe and I got this covered! Right, Ashe?”

“Totally,” Ashe mutters under his breath.

"Ashe," Sylvain says emphatically, "I have full faith in you."

"I won't let you guys down," Ashe says dramatically, and Sylvain cackles.

Dimitri finds himself eyeing the door repeatedly as Ashe continues on despite himself and the fact that Felix had already told him he was coming late, and he wonders what he'd say if he were to see this—Ashe humming to himself as he cooks while Dimitri keeps impromptu, unnecessary watch and Sylvain scrolls through his phone from where he leans against the kitchen counter, subsequently offering absolutely no help. He'd probably be angry with Sylvain and Dimitri himself, but he'd probably give Ashe a pass, he thinks, which makes him _undeniably_ endeared. 

It'd be a little embarrassing, _just_ a little, if Dimitri had any ounce of human shame left in him after years of being Like This, but he just... he really does love Felix, he thinks. Dimitri sees their respective flaws as not something that blends together, but rather clashes to make them _better_—and yet they're both naturally emotional people, a little withdrawn, more than a little observant of themselves and the people around them. And if Dimitri's a simple man, then Felix encompasses so much more than what tends to be his base-level personality that people see and assume they understand. It's been rocky, he knows, and he doesn't want to go through their teenage years again—doesn't even want to think about it anymore, because they've both grown since then and Dimitri can fairly comfortably say that Felix is just as in love with him as he is with Felix.

He doesn't realize he's smiling until Sylvain looks up from his phone and raises an eyebrow, smirking. "What's going on in your head, lover boy?" Sylvain asks, tapping the side of his head for emphasis, and Dimitri arranges his face into a neutral expression.

Ashe looks over his shoulder from where he's standing near the stove with vegetables and assorted spices strewn all over the place, eyes bright. "What was that?"

Dimitri sighs. "Sylvain," he says, "I think you forget that I am still your boss at the tattoo parlor."

Sylvain rolls his eyes. "You've also been my best friend for the past however many years," he points out with an easy smile. "Any chance Felix'll get home soon?"

Dimitri has to put his all into not pouting. "He said he's running late."

"Aww," Sylvain teases, "you miss your boyfriend, huh? Aren't they just so cute, Ashe?"

"What was that?" Ashe repeats, sounding distracted as he refrains from even looking over at them again. Somewhere between ten minutes ago and now, he's thrown an apron on, and he chops at a red pepper dutifully. "Uh, yeah, of course. Cutest couple in the world." He pauses. "The other day at the office, I heard Annette say she wishes she had a relationship like yours in front of, like, everyone."

Sylvain throws his head back to laugh while Dimitri blushes and stares hard at his own hands. "I'm sure she made certain she was saying all of that in front of Lysithea, too, right?"

Ashe snorts. "Yeah, but she isn't wrong! You and Felix... you've got this sort of special bond no one can relate to, you know? The chemistry is real, there's background, there's _history_," and here, he starts to trail off into what Dimitri knows could potentially become another one of his passion-filled love story rambles, and Dimitri coughs as inconspicuously as possible.

"Thank you, Ashe," Dimitri says, "but please stop talking."

Ashe coughs lightly. "Sorry! You get my point."

When Dimitri looks up at Sylvain, he catches the look he's giving Ashe—it's deep, and nearly completely unreadable, and he mentally raises his eyebrows as he thinks, _Oh_. How unsurprising, really, but he won't push him for now.

There isn't a problem at first. For half an hour or so, it's cooking, spices and vegetables and fish Ashe had all painstakingly bought with his _own money_—a fact that Dimitri knows is going to eat him alive for the next few weeks—as a nice aroma fills the apartment. Dimitri isn't quite used to it, being a busy person with an objectively busier boyfriend; meaning they never cook, and when they do it's small meals Felix makes when he can't bear the thought of eating takeout leftovers anymore. Sylvain banters with Dimitri and flirts with Ashe and sometimes flirts with Dimitri as well, and he finds himself relaxing into his seat, falling into his feelings in a way he hasn't really gotten to over the past few months.

So it's good. It's _really_, really good, up until when Ashe steps away from the stove and out of the apartment to take a call from Dedue, ordering Sylvain and Dimitri to watch over their food. There are two main problems with this.

  1. Sylvain isn't incompetent in the slightest. In fact, it's a rational decision for Ashe to make, considering the fact that Sylvain is meticulous despite seeming so reckless, and he _also_ knows how to cook—he just, of course, didn't want to help. The problem within the pseudoproblem is that Sylvain's sulking and stares dejectedly at the refrigerator even as he stirs the soup on the stove like it'll solve all his romantic woes, and Dimitri really, truly feels for him, but _still_. 
  2. Dimitri should never be allowed to watch over food, even if it's already made. This is his universally understood role in society, even with supervision—and supervision from a sulky Sylvain is debatably even worse.

Dimitri isn't even sure how it happens, really—one minute, he's contemplating the time it'll take for him to grab his book (a surprisingly good romance novel Ashe had happily lent him only a few days ago) and if it's _really_ worth it, all while Sylvain sighs mournfully.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a fire starts on the stove.

It's small but flickers with the threat of growing larger by the second over the fish on the crackling pan, and Sylvain squeaks before leaping away impulsively. He turns his eyes on Dimitri, who sits there, gaping at the fire. "Um," Dimitri starts, and that's when Sylvain snaps back into action again. He turns off the stove and then backs away to grab a dish towel and wet it at the sink. He bats at the flames with it—

Except, Dimitri belatedly realizes, _that won't work_. Sylvain seems to realize it too late as well, hissing "_Fuck_," when the flames burst brighter as if it was waiting for Sylvain's action, and it flames up over the top of the stove's hood, the heat flaring into Dimitri's face even from where he sits a ways away from the fire. Dimitri jumps up and off of the barstool, frantically searching for the fire extinguisher while Sylvain shouts, "It's a grease fire!"

"I know it's a grease fire!" Dimitri exclaims, unhooking the fire extinguisher from where it hangs on the corner, fingers shaking minutely as he attempts to properly get a hold of it. Sylvain looks like he wants to grab the dishrag and try again, but he's stopped with a glare from Dimitri. "Just—stay back. I took a class on this. I'll handle it."

"You could've been a firefighter?" Sylvain asks incredulously as Dimitri rolls his sleeves up, ignoring the way he raises an eyebrow at the tattoos marking up Dimitri's arms. "What the... why the hell would you become a lawyer, then?"

"Sylvain," Dimitri grits out as the fish, already burned to a crisp, starts to smell of smoke. He releases the cap on the extinguisher and points it straight at the base of the fire. "There is a _fire_ in the _kitchen_. You can ask me about my life choices later."

And then he pushes down on the lever as hard as he can, keeping the extinguisher as level as possible as the foam spray shoots out almost violently with the force of Dimitri's hand, coating the fire and, subsequently, the food, something he mourns quietly but leaves it at the back of his mind to think about later. In the matter of minutes, everything's died down, save for the smoke alarms that blare and blare and _blare_, and Dimitri starts eating himself alive with guilt as he sets the extinguisher down. "They're going to be evacuating everyone in the apartment block, just in case," he says quietly, mortified beyond believe, and Sylvain drags a hand over his face.

"We should probably go," Sylvain points out. "Um... smoke. Unhealthy."

Dimitri nods sadly. "You're right."

Ashe opens the door to their apartment and pokes his head, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. He immediately starts coughing and Sylvain ushers him out, a worried frown on his face as Dimitri follows. "You guys had _one job_," Ashe hisses as Sylvain dutifully keeps pushing him towards the stares, "and now you're getting everyone evacuated?"

"Ashe," Dimitri says, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, really. I shouldn't have even let myself say yes to this proposition." He sighs. "Felix really is always right, as much as I'd hate to admit it—and at this point, I don't."

Sylvain rolls his eyes. "C'mon, man. You _know_ it was my fault for not paying attention to the food."

Ashe turns his glare at him. "Are you serious, Sylvain?"

"Listen," Sylvain says faintly, but Ashe is already turning around and shaking his head. Sylvain pouts, but the expression gets wiped off of his face as soon as he realizes Dimitri's staring at him. "...Let's just go."

And of course, as if to make the nightmare _worse_, if possible, Felix is already waiting out on the sidewalk when they manage to get out. The heat of the fire contrasts with just how freezing cold it is outside, and Felix's nose is tipped red. That, and the huge winter coat he wears, does nothing to quell the nerves that spark through Dimitri when he sees him walking back and forth on the sidewalk like he wants to wear away at the sole of his shoes, phone held up to his ear, and when Felix catches sight of him his eyes widen in relief and irritation as he marches over to Dimitri and jabs him in the chest. 

"Where the hell were you?" He snaps. "I called you, like, a million times."

Dimitri frowns. "I'm sorry. I wasn't on my phone, but you also could have just... come in."

Felix eyes the apartment complex worriedly as people flood out. Dimitri's lucky Felix's birthday just happened to fall on a Friday this year, because there aren't nearly as many people as usual. He's vaguely surprised to see Hilda rubbing at her eyes, a jacket thrown over her soldiers as she trudges out. "Hey, Dimitri," she says, but the usual mirth in her tone is gone. "Do you know why the smoke alarms went off?"

He can feel Felix looking at him questioningly, can feel Sylvain and Ashe both waiting for his answer with baited breath, and he winces. "Um," he starts. "There was... an incident."

"That was so descriptive!" Hilda says sarcastically. "Thanks! Anyway, I'm not gonna stay out here until they let us back in. Sylvain, if Caspar asks around about me, please tell him I'm staying overnight at Marianne's place. Thank you in advance, sweetheart!"

"Of _course_, angel," Sylvain says with a self-satisfied smirk as Hilda heads off, and Ashe rolls his eyes. He shivers and Sylvain's demeanor immediately changes as he wraps an arm around Ashe, and Dimitri has to try not to roll his eyes, because he needs to be serious.

Because Felix is giving him his knowing, deadpan glare, and Dimitri can feel himself crashing and burning already. "What did you do."

Dimitri forces out a too-loud laugh that bounces off the walls and the sidewalk, and Felix continues to stare at him. Sylvain and Ashe start to back away, and Dimitri thinks, _You can't trust anyone_. So much for Ashe being trustworthy. "You assume too poorly of me, Felix! I would never—"

"Dimitri," Felix says darkly. "What. Did. You. _Do_."

Dimitri can't skirt around it any longer than the fifteen seconds he's attempted, and he sighs. "We just thought—well, since you were busy, and since Ashe and Sylvain are more than competent enough to do so, maybe—since you'd be coming home late—"

"Ah, I see." Felix looks twenty seconds away from stomping on Dimitri's foot. "So that was _our_ kitchen, was it."

"It was," Dimitri confirms. "But it was not—there was no ill intention—"

"Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd," Felix says slowly, dangerously. "What was the _one_ thing I told you _not_ to do?"

Dimitri puts his head in his hands. "Make you dinner," he mumbles.

"And what, exactly, did you proceed to do?" Felix asks. Dimitri can _feel_ the glare on him and winces.

"I... I made you dinner."

When he looks up carefully, Felix is pinching the bridge of his nose. "And then you nearly burned our kitchen down," he says flatly. "But thanks for trying."

"I'm sorry," Dimitri half-sobs, practically collapsing onto the curb and burying his head in between his knees. "I've truly ruined your birthday, Felix. I'm so, so sorry, and I wish I never agreed to do this in the first place—"

Felix groans, before sitting down next to him. Dimitri dutifully keeps his head down and doesn't look at him. "Please shut up," he says, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "Stop talking. It's embarrassing, seeing you grovel after you make a silly mistake."

"It wasn't a _silly mistake_, Fe," Dimitri mumbles, his voice muffled, and Felix snorts.

"You're right. It was a conscious decision you made despite me telling you not to—and _that_ was because I wanted to look after you, by the way, because you can be so painfully fucking reckless sometimes despite acting so careful." His hand comes up to link his fingers around Dimitri's wrist and tug one hand away, and Dimitri miserably lets him. "Case in point, of course."

"I feel as though I'm a burden because of that," Dimitri says, before he grimaces. "Ah, and yet I feel like even more of a burden for even telling you this. I'm sorry."

"God. Happy fucking birthday to me," Felix mutters under his breath. Dimitri visibly flinches away from that, and Felix's blizzard-cold, red fingers automatically interlock with Dimitri's own in apology. "Listen, Dimitri... I already appreciate you, okay? As irritating as it is to have to tell you this, because we've been dating _for years_. The only damn reason why I try not to ask anything of anyone on my birthday, _especially_ you, is because I know you're busy, and I don't want to put more of a burden on your shoulders. And yet you get so heated up about it..." he sighs. "But the fact that you tried is already enough for me."

"I got you another birthday present," Dimitri says, and Felix blinks. "A video game console."

"You're serious," he says.

"I am," Dimitri says.

Felix exhales slowly through his nose. "Okay," he says. "Alright. Whatever."

"I think," Dimitri starts, "that another reason as to why you don't like receiving gifts is that you aren't quite used to the whole... _saying thank you_ process."

To which Felix punches his arm with enough force to send someone crying to their mother, but to Dimitri, it barely does much more than make him bat an eyelash. "Shut the hell up. Do you get my point, though?"

"I do," Dimitri nods. It'll take a while for him to feel less terrible about all of this, but for now, he lets himself lean into Felix and his body heat. "I—I'm not sure we'll be able to head back in, however."

Felix sighs. "We'll just head over to Ingrid's place," he says. "She's out to dinner with Edelgard and Dorothea, and I have her spare key."

"I don't know who either of them are," Dimitri announces as he stands up and reaches his hand out to help Felix up. Felix completely ignores the offering as he gets up on his own, dusting himself off and adjusting the strings of his backpack. "But good for her!"

"They're both going for criminology," Felix explains abruptly. He catches sight of Sylvain and Ashe talking together in hushed voices and gives Sylvain his most evil glare, drawing his thumb across his neck before he spins on his heel and begins to walk. "Doesn't matter. I don't really care, because she doesn't tell me much about it. Aren't you fucking cold, by the way?"

As soon as he says that, Dimitri realizes how genuinely _freezing_ he is, and jogs up to Felix as he rubs his arms. "God, you're right. I couldn't really grab a jacket, though."

"I'd be chivalrous and lend you my jacket," Felix drawls as he keeps walking, hands shoved into his pocket and shoulders hunched. "But no. I won't. Suffer for your sins, boar. Also, your tattoos look hot out in the open."

Dimitri can't help his laugh. "You're so cruel," he says. "But I like that about you."

Felix makes a disgusted noise. "Not the time, Dimitri."

"I wasn't even doing anything!" Dimitri protests. The night sky twinkles with a few stars here and there, and the moon sits at a contrast to the deep, deep blue. Ice gleams on the sidewalk with help from the streetlamps, and they cross the street. "Thank you for being so... understanding, though. Again, I apologize for ruining your night."

Felix sighs. "You didn't ruin my night," he says. "Ingrid told me to come home early, actually. I wanted to... maybe go out to dinner with you, or something. Of course, I don't really feel like it now, but that's just the exhaustion setting in." He inhales like he's about to say something very, very important, and Dimitri listens as closely as he can. "Would you maybe like to go out tomorrow? Nothing expensive, of course... just somewhere quiet."

"Felix," Dimitri breathes reverently, his breath puffing out in front of him. "Of _course_. I'd love to. I'll clear out my schedule so we can spend time together, if you'd like."

"That doesn't sound too bad, as long as you don't overwork yourself to death the next day," Felix says knowingly, his voice as warm as it can get in the cold February chill, through the threat of overnight snow and the fact that Dimitri's gotten them kicked out of their own apartment for the time being.

They're just around the corner from Ingrid's complex, but Dimitri tugs Felix into a kiss right on the street anyway, ignoring the few cars that choose to pass by at the worst moment. He's expecting Felix to protest, or pull away, or maybe bite his lip in retaliation, but Felix practically melts into it, hands coming up to clutch at Dimitri's shoulders when he tilts his head just so. Dimitri pulls away all too soon so as to not make a fool of themselves in public, and he lets himself idealize for just a moment—Felix's cheeks are most definitely tinted red because of the cold, but his eyes are wide and soft. "I hate you," Felix announces.

"Love you too," Dimitri laughs, paying no heed to the biting cold as he leans in and presses his lips to Felix's forehead. "Happy birthday, Felix."

**Author's Note:**

> maybe if i stopped divulging from my actual fic schedule. maybe if i did that. this was fun to write, though! i hope you enjoyed and comments & kudos are always appreciated as per usual! 
> 
> [talk to me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/_fraldarius)


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